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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114192">Remember when?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoukalay/pseuds/Kyoukalay'>Kyoukalay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hershel and Desmond are old and buddies, fic request, they reminisce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoukalay/pseuds/Kyoukalay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic request for Bumblywumblytumbly on Tumblr! Some brotherly bonding between Hershel and Desmond.</p><p>Hershel and Desmond reminisce about the old days.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hershel Layton &amp; Desmond Sycamore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Remember when?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A wrinkled hand reached out to the table besides his favourite reading chair. He had placed a box on there the previous evening, when he was planning to show his visitor something which he had kept for years. His heart swelled when he slid his finger along the side of the box, memories flooding his mind. The visitor sat patiently besides him, the years that had taken its toll obvious on his features. Grey streaks in his always luscious hair and crow’s feet besides his eyes. He wondered what his host was about to show him. He had known him for so long but never heard of this box before. The host carefully opened the lid and rummaged inside.</p><p>‘’So, are you going to tell me what this is about brother dear?’’ the elder of the two asked.</p><p>‘’All in good time Des. You are going to like this. I promise.’’ the gentleman said with a sly grin.</p><p>‘’You know I hate surprises.’’ the one with the name Desmond sighed.</p><p>‘’Yes. You would rather be the one surprising. I know.’’ his younger brother Hershel returned.</p><p>‘’The box looks so dusty. How long have you been planning this?’’ Desmond asked.</p><p>‘’Do you remember?’’</p><p>‘’Remember what?’’</p><p>‘’The day I tried to reach out to you?’’</p><p>Desmond placed his chin onto the top of his intertwined fingers and sighed again.</p><p>‘’Like it was yesterday.’’</p><p>--------------------------------</p><p>
  <em> Years ago </em>
</p><p>Desmond Sycamore. It’s what he had started calling himself years before, when he needed another alias for his person. A fake persona. A sham that ranked in lists as one of the most renowned archeologists of their time. He sighed as he read through the letters on his desk with the name. It ached to keep the pretense up, but he had no choice. Hershel Bronev was dead to the world and to himself. Jean Descole had his time, but had to cease after the fall of the Azran. He shook his head and placed the letters to the side with a sigh. He was surely not in the mood for these types of thoughts. He needed a break.</p><p>‘’Tea, master?’’</p><p>Desmond flinched as his friend and butler Raymond seemed to have teleported behind him. It was one of the few people that was actually able to do that in the first place.</p><p>‘’Y-yes, thank you.’’</p><p>The cup of tea was placed on his desk with an inviting scent wafting through the room. </p><p>‘’One more letter has arrived sir.’’</p><p>Raymond reached a yellow coloured envelope out to the professor, who quickly waved his hands in front of his face.</p><p>‘’I’m quite done with opening letters for the time being. Place them with the others.’’ he said while pinching the bridge between his eyes and raising his glasses.</p><p>‘’I believe you want to open one more.’’ Raymond insisted, pushing the letter under his nose.</p><p>Desmond snatched the letter out of the older man’s hand with an irritated look, before looking down to see who it was from.</p><p>‘’No address?’’</p><p>He turned the letter around and found nothing else that would indicate who sent it.</p><p>‘’Open it.’’ Raymond said before leaving the room.</p><p>Desmond’s curiosity grew. Why was Raymond being so suspicious about it? Did he know who sent it? He moved the envelope closer to his face and detected a faint smell of ink, which made sense, and another strange smell. Maybe it was the tea next to him on the table, but the odor of early grey seemed to have seeped into the envelope as well. No longer able to contain himself, he grabbed his letter opener and rushed the sharp edge along the top. He unfolded the letter inside and studied the beautiful calligraphy. </p><p>A rush of energy overwhelmed him when he recognized the handwriting. He quickly moved up from his chair and started pacing through the room with eyes wide and short breaths. He had pressed the letter against his chest, unsure if he should throw it out of the window, or bury it deep into the ground. Maybe he should burn it, or push it inside a box to read again many years later. </p><p>‘’No.’’ he said to himself with determination. ‘’I can’t do that to him.’’</p><p>He sat down on his large armchair and raised the letter up with trembling fingers.</p><p>
  <em> Dear Desmond, </em>
</p><p>--------------------------</p><p>Hershel chuckled as Desmond recalled the almost harrowing event with melancholy sighs in between.</p><p>‘’I’m glad you did send me that letter though.’’ Desmond finished off his tale.</p><p>‘’Hm?’’</p><p>‘’Otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten together again I believe.’’</p><p>‘’Then I’m happy as well.’’ Hershel smiled at his older brother.</p><p>‘’Now, about that box of yours.’’ Desmond said with a quirked eyebrow.</p><p>He still didn’t understand what it had to do with his question.</p><p>‘’In here, I’ve kept all the drafts I made that let up to the eventual letters I sent you.’’</p><p>Desmond now had both of his brows raised. He had no idea Hershel had struggled with it as well. He always seemed so in control of his emotions and thoughts, it seemed unlikely.</p><p>‘’I would like you to see them. There...are some things I regret not putting in the letter that were actually in the drafts. After all these years...you deserve to know what you mean to me.’’</p><p>He handed the box over to Desmond, who could tell that this would be quite the emotional evening.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For drownout~ Hope you enjoyed ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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